


The Name

by Nejijjeoro



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Also imagine that Ivar is with Freydís, F/M, Vikings, Vikings Imagine, and that Margrethe is not a mad bitch, fluffy stuff, yeah I really like to imagine them as dads
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-19 00:17:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13692846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nejijjeoro/pseuds/Nejijjeoro
Summary: Imagine, you're with child, but you and Hvitserk haven't yet decide a name.





	The Name

**Author's Note:**

> There are some historical references, or at least supposed facts, like Ivar’s son. Sigtryggr I of Dublin is the son of Ivarr of Dublin, a Viking king who co-ruled Dublin from 853 to 873. Ivar Ragnarsson was one of the Viking leaders who led the conquest of Danelaw in England at the end of ninth century. Some historians reject Ivar Ragnarsson’s identification with Ivarr (or Ímar) Uí Ímair, father of Sygtryggr I of Dublin. But I chose to identify these two people as the same in this imagine.
> 
> Yeah, I’ve wrote all of that just for a little detail.
> 
> English is not my first langage, so don’t be to rude with me, I’ve done my best, even if I’ve used google translation for some sentences.  
> I have to tell you something else.. I fucking love vikings traditional dresses. So don’t be surprise if you see a lot of links when I’ll describe the dresses.

 

You smile when Hvitserk’s lips settle on yours. You sit on the chair and take support on the armrests. A sigh escaped from your lips, then your hands brushed your belly. During these last two months your belly had rounded, and your dresses had widened. Your chest, just like your thighs, had grown, your hips had widened and your back was pulling you when you were standing too long. 

Hvitserk kept repeating, to reassure you, that these round hips pleased him, and that this chest was all he loved. But you suspected that he loved you so much more than a few days ago, or a few years ago, because you were carrying his child. He were taking care of you, and was maybe too much worried than you was. He wanted you, and your child, to be safe. And you knew he already loved him, or her, maybe it will be her.

**«How do you feels ?»**

**«Huge.»**  you responded, while Hvitserk pulls the shawl over your shoulders. Your green [smokkr](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.pinterest.fr%2Fpin%2F393009504968242833%2F&t=YjIwNjhjYzA2NzBhNmRlMThlOTA3MDM3MWIyZWM3YTQ1N2VkMjkyZCxQQkpkRDRadQ%3D%3D&b=t%3AnjHO5wJoabjodtzdM0Eu6Q&p=https%3A%2F%2Fnejijjeoroo.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F170884697664%2Fthe-name&m=1) were wide, even if the greenish coat seemed tight.  **«Awfully huge.»**

**«I’m pretty sure that will be a beautiful child.»** assured Freydís with a bright smile.

You smiled, your hands on your belly. Since your pregnancy, so five months ago, you had let your wild and wild wicks grow. They were stranded on your hips, braided and dotted with colorful beads. Freydís always braided them, when Ivar was too tired to braid his. 

**«He will be the most wonderful, no doubt.»**  assured Hvitserk, his wooden cup of ale in his hand. 

**«He ? What if it’s a she ?»** you asked, brows raised. 

**«She’ll be the most gorgeous woman on this earth.»**

You smiled, affected by his tenderness. It was like this child turn him into a other man, more mature and more fatherly. 

**«You’ve already thought about names ?»**  Ubbe asked, his hands on Margrethe’s hips, sitting on his lap. His fringer traced the brown seam of the mandrin apron of her [smokkr](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.pinterest.fr%2Fpin%2F264938390565862726%2F&t=MWExY2EwMmJjMGIxM2ZhNjE2NjcwMmE3NzJjZDZmOTU0NzkyNmQ5YSxQQkpkRDRadQ%3D%3D&b=t%3AnjHO5wJoabjodtzdM0Eu6Q&p=https%3A%2F%2Fnejijjeoroo.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F170884697664%2Fthe-name&m=1). 

**«I have tought about somes this last days.»**  

**«Oh, really ?»**

You were really curious. A smile stretched his malicious lips, his eyes sparkling at the thought of revealing the names he was thinking about.

**«I’ve thinking about Fritjof.»**  

**«Don’t you wanted to name our child after your father, or your grandfathers ?»**   

**«I’ve don’t knew my grandfathers.»** he responded, shrugging his shoulders.   **«But I’ve also thinking about Tryggvi.»**

**«Tryggvi..»** you repeated slowly. ****«What does it mean ?»****

**«Trustworthy.»**   

**«And you ? What have you thinking about ?»** Margrethe asked softly. 

**«I don’t really know, there so much names I like. How did you have do, you two ?»**  you asked while your eyes swayed between Freydís and Ivar. 

**«There was a name I really liked, and Ivar were liked another one. So we’ve decided to chose a name who mean something about this two names.»**    

**«And that’s how Sygtryggr have been named.»**  Ivar smiled, his wooden cup of ale on the edge of his curved lips.

**«Tell me what names you like, and maybe we’ll can chose.»** proposed Hvitserk.

**«My father once tell me that if I’ve been a man, I’ve would be named Thorodd. Don’t you like it ?»**

**«What do you think about Thorvald ?»**

**«I don’t like it.»**  You frowned your brows, wrapping a finger around the bluish and green pearls of your necklace.  **«And Thorir ?»**

**«After your father ?»**  he asked you, confused.  **«I thought you did not want our son named after your father or grandfathers.»**

****«Not really.»**  **You shrugged your shoulders. It’s was so difficult to chose the right name, the name of your child.  **«Maybe we should think about something more simple.»**

Hvitserk immersed his eyes in the flammes of the fire. You smiled when you see Freydís, her lips curved in a bright smile while her eyes were in Ivar’s. His fingers wrapped around the teal and blue frosted pearls around her neck, and her shawl slipped for her shoulder. She approached his lips, who murmured some words. A slight smile stretched Ivar’s lips. You could easily say that he loved her more than he have loved himself in his life. 

**«Oh.»** Your hands settled on your belly when you suddenly felt something really odd. 

**«What ? What, there’s something wrong ?»**  Hvitserk straightened immediately, worried. He putted down his wooden cup of ale, and almost dropped his bowl. 

**«I.. I think that…»**  you smiled brightly, your eyes on Hvitserk.  **«I think that the baby as moved.»**

****«Really ? Gods, let me feel.** » **he exclaimed while he knelled at your feet. His hands rested on your belly, his eyes in yours. And suddenly, your lovely husband started to smile.  ** **«Yes, I feel it ! **»******

Tears came to your eyes. Feel this little baby in your belly, feel his feet gently squirm makes you feel light, joyful. Your hand caressed Hvitserk’s cheek. Margrethe came to feel your baby, and Freydís brushed your rounded belly. 

****«So, did you choose a name, brother ? **»******  asked Ubbe.

****«Faðir ! **»******  

Ivar’s brows furrowed, before he turned to the child. A slight smile curved his lips, while his hands grabbed his pants. Ivar’s fingers mingled with his browns strands.  

****«Why are you here, Sigtryggr ? **»******  he asked while his son smile brightly to Freydís, who smiled back.  ** **«And where’s your systir ? **»******

**«There’s with Freja.** **»**  Sigtryggr responded, with a little smile. **«Móðir have told I’ll can come, so I’ve asked her to let me come here.** **»**

Ivar ruffled his hair, and see you smile a bit. His hands rested on Sigtryggr’s shoulders and he leaned to his hear.

**«Don’t you want to feel your cousin ? Demand to your föðursystir.** **»**

He just nooded, then and went down from his father’s knees. You smiled gently when he approched you shyly. You taked his hands, and slowly, put it on your belly. Sigtryggr’s brows frowned, don’t feel anything. He leaned down and pressed his ear against your belly. Hvitserk chuckle, his wooden cup between his fingers. And suddenly, Sigtryggr’s eyes widened. 

****« **Aunty, it’s so strange. He’s here your baby ?** **»******  

******«Yes, he is. Do you feel his feet ?»**  you chuckled, your hands on his. 

****«I feel it, yes. It’s fódurbróðir’s baby ? **»******  he asked, raising his head towards you before turning to Hvitserk.

**«It’s my son.»** he assured, amused of Sigtryggr’s wonderment. 

**«How do you know it’s a boy ? I’m pretty sure it’s a girl.»**

**«You think ?»** you said, and he nooded firmly.  **«Then, how do you think she should be named ?»**

**«She don’t have a name ? But I was thinking that was already have one.»** he pouted. When you were looking him you were seeing Ivar, with his bluish eyes and his browns strands. But you recognize Freydis, when he talked and moved his tiny hands when he speaked. 

**«Your ** **fódurbróðir****  can’t decide to a name.» **you confessed, even if everyone can hear you. He seemed to think for a few minutes, his hands yet on your belly. He looked to his father, nibbling his lip before he turned to Margrethe.  **«Margrethe…»**   

**«Yes ?»** she responded gently while murmuring, before kneeling at his side. 

Sigtryggr approached her ear.  **«I have a name. But..»**  he turned to his father and his mother, before return to Margrethe’s ear.  **«But I don’t think f ** **aðir will like it…**** »**

**«Oh, and what’s name ?»**  she asked. 

He kneaded his fingers, as guilty of something wrong he’ve done. 

**«…Sigurd.»**

And the silence fell in the great hall. Sigtryggr wriggled his fingers. His eyebrows furrowed, worried. You caressed his head, before you pushed him towards Freydís. He hid in the folds of his mother’s [smokkr](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.pinterest.fr%2Fpin%2F264938390565673786%2F&t=OTA4MDM3MjBmMjljMDQ2NGNmMzA1MWJjYjVjMzM0ZmUyNGRjZDEwZixQQkpkRDRadQ%3D%3D&b=t%3AnjHO5wJoabjodtzdM0Eu6Q&p=https%3A%2F%2Fnejijjeoroo.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F170884697664%2Fthe-name&m=1), his eyes misted with tears. Hvitserk were quiet, and you take his hands in yours.

**«F ** ** **aðir, I’m sorry…****** »** Sigtryggr sobbed, really and truly feeling guilty. He were crying silently, as weel as he can. But when Ivar turned his bluish eyes towards him, his tears redoubled, his tiny hands grabbing his mother’s dress. 

**«Come, Sigtryggr.»**  Ivar’s words were emotioneless. 

The child sobbed, his cheeks turned red. His father made a move toward him, his hand silently call him to come. And because he knew his father can’t walk, he came to him. 

**«I-I’m sorry, **F ** ** **aðir…******** »** he murmured, his littles hands before his mouth. 

But Ivar don’t responded, and leaned over him before lifting him up and sitting him on his lap. His thumb wipped his tears, and his forehead rested against his. This child were just three years old, and he’ve don’t knew his uncle. Ivar have never really talked about his brother to his son. Not because he don’t want to, but because he were feeling too much guilty to talk about him. Hvitserk knowed that, just like Ubbe.

**«It does not matter.** » he said, his hands on his son’s cheeks. His thumb caressed his temples, his eyes in his.  **«I’m not angry with you, it’s not your fault.** »

**«S-Sure ?** » and Ivar nodded, and the child hid himself against his father’s chest, his nose in the folds of his tunic. Freydís caressed Sigtryggr’s browns strands, and smiled to Ivar. 

**«So, did you finally choose a name, brother ?** » Ubbe asked, while he looked to Hvitserk who where smiling at you, before he turned to him and taking his cup.

**«We’ve only talked about boy’s names.»** He taked a gulp of his ale.  **«But, even if I truly trust that a son, my lovely wife think that we’ll have a daughter.»**

**«My pleasant husband think it’ll be a son, but I’m sure i’ll be a daughter.** » you assured, your hand yet on his. 

**«Just respond to my question, you fífl.** » sighed Ubbe, refrening from laughing. He smiled maliciously, his fringers strumming on the armrest. 

Hvitserk standed up, and left his cup on the ground with the bowl. His knelt down before you, hand puted his hands on your belly, before he leaves his forehead against your belly as well. A slight smile stretched his lips.

**«We’ll name you as the Gods will want it.** » Hvitserk murmured, as like he was talking to his child.  **«** **May they let us hear it in our dreams.»**

 

**Author's Note:**

> The second part will arrive soon, I’m already on it ! You can’t imagine how muh I’ve liked to wrote that. Imagine them as lovely dads, especially Ivar in this part, was so pleasant. I’ve use some old norse words, and if you don’t know what they mean, don’t worry, there a translation just here; 
> 
> ✏Names 
> 
> Fritjof, from the Old Norse name Friðþjófr, mean ‘Thief of peace’, derived from the elements Frið, who mean ‘peace’, and þjófr, who mean ‘thief’. Of Ancient Scandinavian origin, of Swedish, Norwegian and Danish usage.
> 
> Tryggvi, Icelandic and Old Norse form of Trygve, derived from the Old Norse tryggr, who mean ‘trustworthy’. Of Ancient Scandinavian and Icelandic origin, of Swedish, Norwegian and Danish usage.
> 
> Thorodd, from the Old Norse Þóroddr.
> 
> Thorir, or Þórir, from the Norse God Thor, or Þórr. Thorir mean ‘Thor’s warrior’. Of Danish, Finnish, Norwegian and Swedish origin, of Ancient Scandinavian and Icelandic usage.
> 
> Thorvald, variant of Torvald, from the Old Norse name Þórvaldr which also means ‘Thor’s ruler’ from the Norse God Thor, or Þórr, combined with valdr ‘ruler’.
> 
>  
> 
> ✏Terms
> 
> Faðir, father.  
> Móðir, mother.   
> Systir, sister.  
> Föðursystir, paternal aunt.  
> Fódurbróðir, paternal uncle.


End file.
